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<title>It Started In The Hayloft by Petrichor_and_Stardust</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156692">It Started In The Hayloft</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichor_and_Stardust/pseuds/Petrichor_and_Stardust'>Petrichor_and_Stardust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crying, Gun Violence, Guns, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Smut, Murder, My First Fanfic, Panic, Please Don't Kill Me, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Songfic, Steter - Freeform, Werewolf Peter Hale, hayloft by mother mother, not relevant but i need you to know that, peter just wants to be happy, uhhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:41:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichor_and_Stardust/pseuds/Petrichor_and_Stardust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Stiles spend a night in the hayloft that doesn't go quite to plan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It Started In The Hayloft</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heyhey, I'm very new to fic writing, please be nice lmao uhhhhhh this is based off Hayloft by mother mother, its a very good song, I listened to it on repeat for like 2 hours while writing this sksksksks</p>
<p>This is best read while listening to that song to get the complete panicky vibe :D</p>
<p>Please comment any feedback you have!!! or tell me if you enjoyed it lol it's very much appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Creak </em>
</p>
<p>The loud protest of the old, rotten boards went unnoticed by the two boys tangled messily in the hay.</p>
<p>
  <em>Creak</em>
</p>
<p>If they were wiser, perhaps they'd slow their desperate attempts to get closer, closer, closer. Perhaps they'd savour their time together, away from the judgement of the townsfolk and the disapproval of their families, instead of grasping and clawing at each other as if they would vanish in a cloud of smoke at any minute. Instead of kissing like it was the last day on Earth, like they were starving for it. Perhaps they'd be quieter.</p>
<p>
  <em>Creak</em>
</p>
<p>The chill of the midnight air was nothing against the heat low in their gut. Toes curled, hay crunched, nails - longer than usual - dug into backs and shoulders, teeth - sharper than usual - bit gently into arched necks and pierced earlobes. Breathy sighs and deep, guttural growls hung in what little space there was between them.</p>
<p>
  <em> Creak</em>
</p>
<p>Peter, the older of the two, paid no mind to the increasingly loud moans of his sweetheart as he pressed love-bites into Stiles' collarbone and chest until he was littered with bruises and squirming beneath him in ecstasy. All that filled his mind was the need to make his boy feel good, the need to satiate the beast within him.</p>
<p>
  <em> Click</em>
</p>
<p>The smaller boy froze. His dilated eyes fixed on his lover's, expression flooded with terror, any trace of the intense lust previously taking over his features long gone. Five whispered words left his bruised and kiss-swollen lips in a rush that sent chills down Peter's spine like a thousand needles piercing him all at once. Or a thousand bullets.</p>
<p>"My daddies got a gun."</p>
<p>
  <em> Thump. Thump. Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Footsteps. Those were footsteps coming towards them. He needed to move. <em>Now</em>.</p>
<p>Stiles remained frozen half-naked in the crumpled hay as peter frantically began gathering his clothes, trying not to breathe too heavy in his panic lest he alert his would-be murderer to his location.</p>
<p>
  <em> Thump. Thump. Thump.</em>
</p>
<p>Stiles grabbed Peter's face in his hands.</p>
<p>"What are you doing?! I'll deal with the clothes, just run!", he whisper-yelled, pushing Peter towards one of the hayloft doors. He stumbled slightly before his mind finally caught up with the situation and he sprinted out the door, not caring for the noise he made as long as he got as far away as he could as quickly as possible.</p>
<p>Once out of the hayloft, Peter scanned his surroundings and decided the forest at the other end of the field would be cover enough to hide from the enraged father of his beloved. He barrelled into the bushes without a second thought, the branches and brush scratching his face and clawing at his shirtless body in a horrific mockery of Stiles' affection.</p>
<p>
  <strong>BANG</strong>
</p>
<p>The first gunshot rang out across the field he just left, and Peter flinched as though it hit him. Tears streamed down his face and his blood roared in his ears as he forced his legs to go faster, faster, faster, <em>faster</em>.</p>
<p>
  <strong>BANG</strong>
</p>
<p>Another shot, closer this time. His already short breath caught in his throat, losing him precious time he didn't have. Intense panic threatened to take control of his body, his limbs starting to ache and protest, but he tried to ignore it. Peter scrambled hysterically through the underbrush tripping over tree roots and uneven ground as if the forest itself was trying to kill him, along with Sheriff Stilinski.</p>
<p>
  <strong>BANG</strong>
</p>
<p>Furious yells echoed from behind him. Never before had he felt this level of fear, of primal self-preservation. Terrified screams and pleas for the man to stop sounded around him, but he could not tell if they belonged to Stiles or himself.</p>
<p>
  <strong>BANG</strong>
</p>
<p>He cursed himself for being so stupid, so careless. For letting his feelings and lust for Stiles take over his common sense. Peter heaved for breath and willed his legs to move, wishing he wasn't this consumed by fear so he could shift. Perhaps then he'd get away. Perhaps then he'd be safe. His foot caught on a gnarled and twisted tree root and he tumbled to the forest floor, making a deafening crunch as he fell onto dried leaves and sticks in the still night. He desperately tried to stand but his legs only gave out on him again, and again. His streaming tears turned to outright sobs has he heard the tell-tale <em>crunch...crunch...crunch</em> of heavy footsteps in a forest.</p>
<p>He turned his head towards the sky, tears glistening on his cheeks in the weak moonlight, and prayed to a God he didn't believe in. Not anymore.</p>
<p>
  <strong> BANG</strong>
</p>
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